We need to find a way to make penises more like hookahs.
Me too. I'd like to spend all next summer high and drunk and riding ponies and boys.
That's ok. Our relationship has a solid foundation of booze and questionable behavior.
The world is my kaleidiscope. I see whatever the alcohol wants me to.
I feel like this is the moment of high where you have to write these texts down to remember to text them and feel that somehow this is important to the continuity of the world.
So Monday we're lesbians.
Deal. This decision is final and any rebates on this will result in losing an eyeball.
The hypnotist is here. He has a black eye and smells like tequila.
When have we listened to the rational side of either of us?!
That moment when you see yourself in a security camera feed and realize you forgot a bra. And pants.
Just found my glass of wine on top of the litter box. Every argument ever is invalid.
I guess there's no delicate way to say "I'm 90% sure I sucked his dick in the bathroom of the bar."
He watches the nature channel every time I am here. It's like a manipulation technique because baby zebras will get me every time.
Power lunch with dad, pain pills and tequila shots. Dad does Monday hard.
we decided to take the jello everclear shot at the party...didnt think it tasted any different....o dear god...the regret..
Breakfast sounds amazing but can we do IHOP instead? I have to pick up a Plan B pill and there’s a CVS next to it
Randomize
